Cocky And Proud, By Accident

If you had one word - just one word - to describe yourself, what word would you use?

Man, that’s a tough one, bro, I dunno.  I guess alot of my friends would say I’m a typical bro, you know, I like all the bro things that bros do, I kinda bro out alot, especially since I met him, yknow?  Even though it don’t really feel like it’s only since I met him, it’s more like it’s been happening in slow motion for my whole life, if that makes any sense, you know?  Like a sleeper thing, like it was asleep in me, and just like, woke up, sorta, when I met my bro.  So I guess I’d say bro, that’d be a good word to describe me, cuz it doesn’t only describe me but it describes my bro too.  Two halfs, one whole.  You dig?

Okay, sure.  I’m not really sure I - exactly follow your train of thought, but okay.  Next question.  With whom in your life would you say you are closest?  It could be a roommate, or a –

That’s a easy one!  Totally my bro.  We do fuckin everything together.  We even share clothes.  Work out together, climb shit together, go hiking, play ball - football, baseball, basketball.  He says he’s gonna teach me how to skate, too, so we can even play hockey together.  How fuckin sweet is that?  We’re gettin big together, like crazy.  Already pretty ripped.  Been takin these awesome supps that my bro gave me.  You outta try em, bro.  You work out?

I, sure, yeah.  Go to the gym.  Not real regular, but I work out some.  But this isn’t about me, it’s about you.

Oh yeah.  I forgot again.  Just sayin, bro, you could probly use some of these awesome supps.  You look like you could be pretty big.  If you wanted to, yknow.

Have you always been such a workout junkie?

Huhuhuhuh workout junkie.  That’s a funny way to put it, bro.  Dya mind if I call you bro, bro?  I guess I just kinda call everyone bro now.  Huhuh, even chicks.  It’s cool though. 

So …

Uh, sorry bro.   What was the question again?

Have you always been such a … uh - did you always, yknow.  Uh, workout.  Alot.  I mean, your guns are fuckin huge.

Fuck yeah, right?  Look even better when I flex.  Been workin the bis extra hard lately with bro.  See?

Wow.  Fuck.  That’s, uh, yeah.  Fuck.

Yeah bro!  Uh, you sportin a little wood there, bro, huhuh, you like what you see?  Yeah, it’s cool, bro.  You wanna just kinda stick your hand in your shorts and mess around a bit, that’s cool, bro.  How ya feelin?

Uhhhh … fuck … good, bro … real fuckin good …

Fuck yeah bro!  Maybe you can come workout with me an my bro sometime, shape up your guns.  Hey, so what’d you say you were interviewin me for anyway?

Uh, the school … paper.  Fuck.  Fuuuuck.  Your friends, they wanted to know … fuck …. where you’d gone …

Yeah, bro.  Uh, what friends?  What paper? 

Yeah … what friends.  What paper.

Yeah bro!  Hey, I got a hat for you.  It’s just like the one my bro gave me when I met my bro.  It’s cool, right?

Fuck yeah …

Says “REBORN.”

Reborn, bro.

Fuck yeah!   

Drug Trials: Part 2

Three men in lab coats walk into a dimly lit room. Three additional men in military uniforms, decorated with medals, are already seated at one end of a long table. One of the coats speak up. "Generals I'm glad you could all make it." "How is Project Alpha coming along?" the military man in the center chirps. "Oh it was a resounding success, our subject Brian, exhibited muscular hypertrophy far beyond initial projections. The only unexpected complication was a hypertrophy of the genitals and marked increase in libido, but we're already investigation mitigation strategies." The three generals murmur among themselves for a short while, looking over the papers infront of them. "Excellent, these numbers look very good... Are these the subjects for the next project? ."

"Ah yes" the coat in the corner replies, "Subjects Z and W are social media and fitness stars, ensuring a rigorous test of the accuracy of the procedure. " "Good, begin work on Project Chameleon. "

I wake up to the smell of coffee coming from my bedside table. "Hmmm my bro must of made some for me. Dam he's such a good brah!" I roll over to pick it up but my body feels funny, lighter maybe. Probably just a side affect of the drug trail me and my best friend and roommate decided to participate in. I mean $10,000 to get injected with some experimental drug? Why not!? There was alot of paper work and contracts we had to sign but I mean 10k!

Still half asleep I pick up the steaming cup and take a sip. The brown brew waking me up from my grog. "Man this must be good stuff, I already feel so energized! Idk if I've ever felt this good!"

I hear clanking from the kitchen.

"BRO!! You making breakfast?" hmm was my voice always that deep?

-"Heck yeah brah! Come get some! Got a nice sausage just for you! "

Was his voice deeper too! ? My ears must be stuffed up or something.

I finally sit up, put on my glasses and pick up my coffee to get out of bed. I walk by my wardrobe mirror and I almost drop the cup from shock.

Immediately I'm stunned, my previous average body was now anything but. Nothing but tight, thick muscle under perfectly tanned skin. A six pack where once it was flab, arms as thick as my legs once were.

Even my face, once the mug of a man who would blend into any crowd, was not that of one of the top models. Not blemish anywhere and a jaw that could cut diamonds.

"Fuck..." was all I could say as I felt and flex each of my new muscles.

Even my underwear was changed, going from ugly old loose boxers, to a pair of sexy tight Calvin's. I could ever feel that my package was now so massive, it felt like it would rip thought the my new underwear.

"Oh fuck, what's my bro gonna think!?" as I dart into the kitchen.

What the fuck! My best bro and roommate was now almost an exact copy of myself, all the muscle, all the looks. We were like twins. He hears me enter and turns around.

His new massive cock hangs out from his jeans, nowhere near hard but already a thick 9 inches long.

-"Sup brah! You ready for some sausage?" he says as his cock begins to harden and grow. It was now a rock hard 13 inch fuck stick, and already dripping with pre.

The sight of my twin alpha God got me rock hard as well, my own giant cock presses painfully against my tight underwear. The fabric quickly loosing the power of my new dick, and tearing, revealing my own 13 inch horse cock.

"What the fuck bro!? What happened to us."

- "Don't know brah. But I think I'm called Wyatt now and your called Zach"

Yeah, Zach... Zach... And my twin bro Wyatt. That's us bro. Two alpha as fuck sick cuntz. Showing off and filling holes with our cum everywhere we go. The knowledge of these strangers suddenly filling my head.

- "So we gonna have breakfast or what?"

Wyatt's rock hard cock was now dripping with full on cum, as was my own.

With our new enhanced bodies, we fucked for hours. Each time we came, it only seemed to make our libido even stronger. The small shared apartment we shared was soon covered in a thick layer of our cum, the smell of testosterone filling the air.

-"Bro, that was so fucking good. But my cock is still rock hard."

Suddenly, an intense urge to show off and be seen comes reflexively.

"Brah, let's head out and get some new followers and pic for the 'gram huhu"

We both put on a pair of boxers to cover our raging boners, and headed out. Immediately we were getting stares and tones of attention. A few people even came involuntarily as they saw us walking down the street and catching a whiff of our superior pheromones.

Once an a while, a cute guy would walk by and catch our eye. Our horse cocks snaking down our legs, already dripping and bulging clearly in our skimpy underwear, was all that we needed to say. They would soon be continuing on their way, now with 2 gallons of our cum inside them.

We soon saw a cute guy coming from the local gym who couldn't keep his eyes off us, and we both knew he would be a great cum dump for the night. A simple "Sup" and he was ours, but not before snapping a pic for the likes.

Update

Hi all

I've posted most of the stories that I could find for shapedbydesire/breedertfs/hogtfs.

Someone has graciously provided some more stories from older deactivated authors that I'll post somewhere this week so look forward to that.

If anyone finds stories from shapedbydesire or other authors just DM me the posts/links.

Originally posted on 2019-09-12 by dumb-and-jocked.

Comradirization

Jacob woke up with a start. His eyes were groggy, adjusting to what he assumed was the morning light. He shifted his arm, trying to scratch his head, but found he couldn’t move it. He flopped over, a little annoyed, and was surprised to find his arm handcuffed to one post of the bed. He tried to swing his other arm over, but found that it too was cuffed. He raised his head to look at his legs to discover that they were also chained to the beds. His whole body was locked to the four corners. Before he could panic anymore, Jacob realized he wasn’t alone in the room.

“Chacoob Kooglerr?”

In a chair next to the bed sat a young, rather handsome man. His defined body and proud beard made him look to be approaching his 30’s. He sat there confidently, his large thighs spread out as he sat there in just a small pair of white briefs. A small tattoo adorned his right arm, while the rest of his body looked as pure as an angel. Although he looked stunning, he didn’t smell it; Jacob noticed the lack of hygiene rather quickly. The man was trying to smile, but it looked more like an awkward smirk. What Jacob didn’t see coming was his thick Russian accent ruining his name. Jacob hadn’t done anything illegal or wrong, at least nothing that he thought would attract a Russian man to kidnap him.

“Vow do yoo zay eet?” the man asked, scaring Jacob. Jacob slowly pushed himself up to a comfortable sitting position, not knowing how to respond. He was too frightened to think of anything else. He had heard of people getting kidnapped before, but usually not by men who wore just their briefs.

“Ya get vaht I mean, yeh?” the Russian added. Jacob slowly shook his head, not knowing what else to do. The Russian grunted angrily, obviously irritated, before speaking again.

“Yoorrr name?” He tried to say it as clear as he could, but the exaggerated “oo” and rolling r’s brought him right back to square one.

“Oh,” Jacob replied, “Jacob Kugler.”

“Chacoob Kooglerr.” The Russian brought a hand to his face, smiling almost proudly, not realizing he had butchered the name the same as before.

“You Amereeican zand zyoorr dumb names.”

The Russian got up and walked throughout the apartment, grabbing items along the way. As he searched, Jacob took his time to figure out where he was. The room was fairly small, housing everything from a kitchen to a bedroom in it. It looked to be some sort of hotel suite, but Jacob couldn’t find any windows to tell. Jacob also realized that as he looked around the room, he found he probably wouldn’t be staying here long. The room looked clean and devoid of any decorations, in fact it barely seemed like a home at all. No photos, no scattered laundry, and Jacob quickly realized that his bed looked to be right after the staff maid had stepped in. He also discovered that he too was in a pair of small white briefs, not at all like the boxers he had last remembered wearing. He was embarrassed that he hadn’t recognized his barren body had been exposed to the world.

Speaking of memories, he couldn’t remember what he had been doing before waking up. He remembered walking out of his office early that morning to catch a meeting on the other side of town. That lead him to a train station, where he bought his tickets and went to the bathroom. Once he was in the room, the memory went black. Jacob was rather ordinary; he worked as an accountant, lived alone at 24, had a moderate build. His blond hair and blue eyes weren’t as appealing as they could have been. He wasn’t fat or skinny, tall or short, but he didn’t have enough muscularity to attract anyone of the opposite gender. In fact, the last time he had a girlfriend was in highschool. Jacob hadn’t really done much with his life yet, so he couldn’t figure out why he - out of anybody - would be kidnapped.

“I am Pasha Vajda,” he said, bringing over everything he had gathered, “Eet ees time to zbegin procezz.”

“What process?” Jacob said, shivering out of fear and being cold from his lack of clothes. Pasha slowly gathered his things and dumped it on a table behind the chair he originally sat in. First, Pasha brought over what looked to be a virtual reality headset, but it looked different than what Jacob was used to. First off, it was a dark red color, with yellow stripes across the back side. The straps that were meant to go around the head also looked different, being shaped more to look like a helmet. Jacob tried to fight back, but Pasha easily placed the device over his head. As soon as the goggles went over his eyes, Jacob felt the harness tightening, so hard it felt as if it was digging into his skull.

As Jacob sat there in quiet fear, Pasha placed the other items in their proper places. He brought over a small tube and linked one end over Jacob’s nose and mouth before hooking the other to a small tank with multiple compartments. He quickly placed two earbuds in Jacob’s ears while connecting the cord to an old iPhone, one that still even had the headphone jack. The last thing Pasha did was jump on the bed between Jacob’s legs, switching on the phone before opening a Russian music app.

“Zee,” Pasha began, “Eez my chob to zhelp creehte new comrrades.”

“New what?” Jacob said, still confused and struggling to escape.

“Eez zimple,” Pasha said, “ve need morre comrrades, yoo’ll be ze comrrades.”

Before Jacob could ask any more questions, Pasha tapped the first playlist that had appeared on his phone, titled “товарищество.” The playlist’s title was rather obvious, for Pasha knew the two would be sharing comradery very soon. Once it began to play the first track, Pasha tapped a button and switched on the VR headset. He leaned back and sat there with the phone in hand, his cocky smirk returning as the process began.

Jacob tried to protest again, but before he could his eyes were blasted with a bright light. As soon as they refocused, all he could see was a red and yellow spiral. Jacob tried to look away, but he was sucked in mere seconds. He didn’t even hear the playlist beginning, starting with the National Anthem of the USSR playing quietly. He also didn’t register when words slowly began flashing on the screen, flying in and out before his conscious mind could register anything, or when he had started to breathe the air being fed to him. A deep melodic voice also entered, saying the words that were disappearing fast, but only in Russian. Jacob tried to ignore everything that was happening, but it was all too easy for him to succumb. The process began smoothly, easing Jacob’s mind open for comradirization. The first set of messages flashed quickly on the screen.

“Real Men have facial hair.”

“Real Men do not clean themselves.”

“Real Men put brothers before others.”

“Real Men listen to other men.”

“Real Men only trust Russian Men.”

The messages were repeated for almost an hour before the first track ended. As soon as it was finished, Pasha pushed the headset up on top of Jacob's head and removed the tube from his face, allowing him to see and breathe fresh air again. Pasha pulled up a different app on his phone, showing the procedures of what to do after each segment of the playlist.

Jacob sat there dazed. He knew his mind had been flooded with certain commands, but he had no idea of what. He was still in the weird apartment, still kidnapped and in white briefs. He was still tied up, both of his hands still cuffed to the bed; the only difference from before was that Pasha now sat right in front of his crotch. Strangely, he was fairly comfortable with the situation. It must have been the essence of the Russian Man sitting in front of him, Jacob could only trust Russian Men after all.

“So,” Pasha began, “khow long ya khad ze faczial khairr?”

His accent was still as thick as ever, but Jacob understood what Pasha was asking fairly well. Jacob brought a hand to his face and itched his subtle beard. It wasn’t large, but definitely worthy of praise.

“Ever since I could grow it.”

Pasha smirked and looked at his notes before continuing, “Ven Vas ze last zime ya zhowyerred?”

Jacob thought back to the last time he’d been in a bathroom, or water for that matter. The rising stench around him suggested it had been a while, but Pasha had a noticeable funk too. Jacob didn’t care that he smelled however - real men were supposed to reek.

“I don’t remember.”

Pasha smirked again before he leaned over and placed the equipment back on Jacob. The Russian Man told him to stay still, and Jacob, knowing to listen and only trust Russian Men, did just that. Everything was loaded back on and set to its proper settings before the second track begun. New words flashed along the screen with a new scent. The last one was plain, filtered air, but the one being fed to Jacob was now raunchy, sweaty, and extremely pungent. Jacob would have vomited at how odorous the new scent was, but he was too busy absorbing the new Russian commands to care.

“Real Men work out every day.”

“Real Men are proud of their bodies.”

“Real Men only respect Russian Men.”

“Real Men are only comrades with Russian Men.”

“Real Men wish to be Russian Men.”

The second track played for a little longer than the first, causing Pasha to get a little impatient, so he began to pleasure himself. Once it had ended, Pasha awkwardly found himself halfway through trying to bust a load. Not having time to finish, he quickly removed Jacob’s gear and began the next set of questions. As he asked away, he non-subtly stroked his massive steel rod, knowing Jacob was far enough along that he wouldn’t mind.

“Ya verrk out?” Pasha asked. Jacob looked down proudly at his built body. Of course he had worked out, you couldn’t be born with a body like this. He had large pecs, beautiful abs, strong biceps, and don’t even start him on his sculpted legs. Jacob made sure to always get every part of his body, ranging from the sculpted shoulders to sculpted buttocks.

“Of course I work out, bro! I always know when to get in a sesh,” Jacob replied, not noticing the jockish gym lingo influencing his deeper voice.

“Goud,” Pasha replied, “Vat do ya zink of Ruzjians?”

“I think they’re incredible. In fact, I’d say there the best!” Jacob had greatly adored the Russian race as long as he could remember. It was a deep passion of his.

“I’d be a Russian and only be friends with them if I could!” Jacob exclaimed excitedly, allowing Pasha move onto the next part of the process.

Pasha swiftly tilted himself up and once more placed the gear upon Jacob’s head. As he did, his exposed, leaking cock rubbed up against Jacob’s torso. Jacob shivered, the touch of a real, Russian man thrilling him. Once Pasha was finished, he leaned back and activated the next stage. Russian commands were fired through the earbuds again, but this time the words in front of Jacob’s eyes were now in Russian too. The gas from the tube was also replaced, now filled with a dark, yellowly liquid that flowed down Jacob’s gullet. The burning pain of the constant piss wasn’t even enough to take him out if his comradirization.

“Real Men have Russian as their first language.”

“Real Men do anything for Russian Men.”

“Real Men only love Russian Men.”

“Real Men are gay for Russian Men.”

“Real Men are Russian Men.”

After another hour of pounding commands into Jacob’s skull, Pasha removed the gear. This time, Jacob’s head really hurt, like he had just studied hours for a hard test. He brought up his hands to rub his temples, also itching at the short, brown-colored sports cut. When he opened his eyes again, Pasha sniggered as he noticed their new, dullish brown tone. Once the headache had passed, Jacob made eye contact with Pasha, feeling flushed as he observed the beautiful man in front of him. His cock began to inflate in his tight briefs, a full three inches longer due to his improved, Russian heredity. He was so infatuated with the male in front of him that he didn’t even realize he was no longer imprisoned, or the lukewarm cum drying on his pecs.

“Who do you love most in your life?” Pasha asked, speaking in full Russian.

“Um…” Jacob answered back in Russian, his thought process noticeably slower, “I dunno…”

Pasha wasn’t satisfied with his answer. As if a lightbulb flashed in his head, Pasha popped up with an idea. He leaned over to Jacob, giving his cock a quick tug. Jacob moaned in response, before muttering out, “I love other Russian Men.”

“Good,” Pasha said before continuing, “Where are you originally from?”

“Russia,” Jacob announced proudly, and as soon as the words were said, the equipment was replaced for the final part.

Pasha clicked a few apps on his phone before sinking up the last section of the playlist. The end of the comradirization was always the most difficult, as so many important parts were involved. First off, two new machines were added: a milking mechanism and an infusion pump. Pasha carefully placed each of the objects in their respective locations; one would inject the Russian sperm and the other would make room for it. The other component that made the ending the hardest was that if it didn’t go absolutely perfect, the whole process could fall apart. Pasha had to make sure everything was ready as he began the final section of the process. The final words flashed on the screen and paired track began to play. This time, lots of messages flooded the screen, while the rest of the equipment pumped Jacob’s body into the prime, Russian Man he was soon to become.

“Russian Men obey the stereotype.”

“Russian Men love football.”

“Russian Men drink vodka.”

“Russian Men love to smoke.”

“Russian Men have deep voices and are dumb jocks.”

As the new reality set in, Jacob’s mind became flooded with new memories. Memories of growing up in Russia, going to school with Pasha, learning how to be an incredible forward in soccer football, and making out with other hot, Russian Men in the locker room. The smell of vodka and nicotine always on their breaths as they passionately kissed.

“Russian Men never smile.”

“Russian Men reminisce the USSR.”

“Russian Men are Orthodox Christian.”

“Russian Men are abrasive, arrogant, and rude.”

“Russian Men are alphas.”

The milking machine chugged away, pulling out every bit of Jacob’s cum as the better, more powerful Russian semun was pumped into his veins. Pasha loved seeing the man become a comrade right in front of him. Jacob’s growing body pulsated out towards Pasha. Jacob’s once-scrawny legs not stretched over the edge of the bed, his feet bloating to a massive Size 16 - just like Pasha’s.

“Russian Men are superior above all other men.”

“Russian Men want all men to be Russian Men”

“Russian Men want to comradirize all other men.”

“Russian Men want to make all other men their Russian brothers.”

“Russian Men are Vadja Men.”

Once the final track had ended, Pasha removed all of the gear and towed it away. He placed the white briefs back over the now goliath dick and tucked the large, Russian Man into the bed. The new comrade had passed out, the final part overloading his smaller brain. Pasha cleaned up before leaving, his job done. He was ready to find the next person to comradiraze.

— —

Yakov woke up in his small apartment, the smell of a smoky, alcoholic locker room pleasantly filling his nose. He flipped over and slapped his large feet on the floor, the meaty sound echoing throughout the small room. He walked over to the dirty kitchen, grabbed a bottle of vodka off the counter, and turned on the small television to reveal a Russian football game.

As he took a swig, he picked up his old phone and looked through his notifications. He had forgotten to close out of the comradirization tracks; he could be such a dumb jock sometimes. As he scrolled through a Russian, gay dating app, a text popped up at the top of the screen. He clicked it, seeing that it was his brother: Pasha Vadja. He clicked the tab as the first set of Russian letters filled his screen.

Pasha: hey brother

Yakov: hey comrade

Pasha: how’s my little Vajda doing

Yakov: its Yakov Vadja, not little, I’m as big as you

Pasha: yeah whatever. hope you’re ready to go make some comrades

Yakov: yeah, I’ll get to it real quick

Pasha: send me a pic of you first, for fun

Yakov: alright, just a sec

Yakov heaved off the couch, mad that he had to tear himself away from the intense football game. He crouched down in front of the mirror by the bed and posed, making sure to get the best angle. Yakov knew that his brother would nut over this, and he knew he probably would too later. First things first, he had to go make some more comrades first. He was excited just thinking about it. He looked in the mirror and then at his phone before taking the pic. He was so glad that he couldn’t smile, it made him look much sexier. He quickly sent the pic to his brother, ready to go comradirize.

An interesting request from me. What if a straight man wishes to become Chris Evans because he wants the attention from girls. Well instead he becomes Kris Evans and he doesn’t notice until he is completely Kris and love the attention from men.

(Check out the full, NSFW version of this story HERE!)

Who doesn’t want to be Chris Evans?

Stellar career, great body, super nice guy, dog lover, and, by all accounts, a total chick magnet.

But nobody wanted to be Chris more than Blake. He was everything Chris wasn’t: unattractive, untalented, unsuccessful, and terrible with people (especially women).

So when Blake got his hands one one of those rare changing stones—ancient magical rocks with the power to transform the user into whomever's name they wrote on the smooth granite surface—he knew exactly what name he was going to write.

Unfortunately, spelling was among one of Blake’s many deficiencies. He relied heavier on spell check than the average person. But this wasn’t Microsoft Word. The changing stone had no spell check, so whoever (or whatever) one wrote on the rock was… well… set in stone.

At first, everything seemed to go according to plan. Blake felt himself shoot up an extra nine inches in height, followed immediately by a drastic drop in size. His blubbery gut receded back into his stomach, so much so that when looked down, his feet came into view for the first time since middle school.

But the view was short lived, as only moments later, a cartoonishly large pec shelf burst forth from his chest, once again obstructing his feet.

Jesus, Blake thought to himself, I knew Chris was big, but I didn’t know he was this big…

He had no idea.

Seconds later, the rest of his muscles began to come in: big veiny biceps, eight pack abs, a broad back, boulder shoulders, and legs the size of Thanksgiving turkeys.

It was then that Blake began to realize something was wrong. Chris Evans was a celebrity, not a supermodel. This was the body of a man whose entire career was his body. A model, perhaps… or a pornstar. God, I hope I’m not turning into a pornstar.

As if in response, Blake felt a tension in his groin area. He craned his neck over his muscle tits and watched as his cock grew to an impractical 9 inches, the fleshy sheath of foreskin inching up over the head.

Thanks to that screen sharing fiasco, everyone knew that Chris Evans was cut. This was not his dick… and this was not his body.

Blake assumed that the transformation was complete. He bore about as much resemblance to his former self as he did to the actor who’s name he’d written (or thought he’d written) on the changing stone. Instead, he had transformed into a 6’4”, 203 pound boy toy with a massive joystick.

I guess it’s not the end of the world, Blake thought as he explored his new body, chicks are gonna dig these muscles!

But there was still one last change. You see, Blake didn’t just accidentally write the name of any pornstar: he had written the name of a gay pornstar, and a prolific one at that.

As Blake entered the final stage of his transition, his mind flooded with fantasies of gay sex, images of guys sucking his dick and pounding his ass.

He tried picturing the busty blonde women he’d jerked off to his entire life, but his thoughts kept wandering back towards men: big, meaty men with big, meaty cocks, filling his every hole with their hot white spunk.

“No, stop! I’m not gay,” Blake cried out in a comically deep hungarian accent, “I don’t like guys! I like girls!”

But his dick begged to differ. The harder he tried to deny his new sexuality, the harder he got, until Blake’s dick was as hard as the changing stone itself. Whether he liked it or not, this was his new destiny: to live as a gay man.

A huge, hot, muscular gay man.

“Oh…. FUUUUUCK!”

He couldn’t take it any longer. All it took was one stroke and he shot his wad all over the stone. As the pornstar’s cum soaked the surface of the rock, the hastily scribbled black ink melted away.

His transformation was complete: Blake was no more, and in his place stood the iconic gay pornstar Kris Evans.

The hunky Hungarian gave a deep belly laugh, amused by the thought that not five minutes ago, he’d been some pathetic straight dude with a dream of turning into a Hollywood celebrity. Kris couldn’t fathom wanting to be anyone other than himself. He had the body of a god, an amazing job, not to mention the pick of any guy he wanted.

Every gay guy, that is.

Ostello della Moda: Diego

--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---

Luke slid the last cigarette out of the pack and lit it up within a few seconds of stepping outside the brightly lit airport into the dark, hot Milanese night. Local time was 2:30 A.M., but he needed a cigarette so badly! The airline industry makes smoking so difficult and he needed his fix. He inhaled deeply and thought about his girlfriend back home. Well ... his ex-girlfriend. Part of the reason for their breakup was his smoking. That, combined with her desire to get married and started on a perfect American life, made Luke somewhat glad that he was free. This was going to be the trip of a lifetime!

He inhaled deeply and wondered if he could get a taxi to take him to the "Ostello della moda." They said they had 24-hour check-in. His friends were probably catching up, maybe headed out for a night on the town without him. But, he would catch up. He was the real party-animal of the group and always had been. He remembered those days in college when he would come back to the apartment completely hammered and they still took him in and helped him get to bed. He missed that -- he missed his friends.

He tossed the cigarette onto the concrete and walked towards a waiting taxi. He would need another pack in the morning, even though he was going to try and cut back on this trip. He wanted to quit, but habits don't die easily. "Last one until tomorrow night," he vowed.

The taxi wasn't air-conditioned and he tried to get comfortable. The cab smelled like smoke -- which made Luke even more anxious as the taxi bounced it's way towards the city because he could few the craving grow again -- especially when the driver lit up while driving. He didn't know enough Italian to ask him to stop, so he just inhaled it in and tried to relax. It took the cab about half an hour to make it to the hostel, and he tipped the man generously because he helped with the luggage.dn't

A sleepy young Italian man greeted him and asked him a few questions. "Uh...passport?" he said. "Right," Luke said as he reached into his bag. The zipper was halfway open and he pulled out a few things while digging for his passport. An opened pack of cigarettes fell onto the floor. Luke picked them up in astonishment. He was positive that the pack was empty. Plus, this was clearly an Italian brand that he was unfamiliar about.

"Sir...passport?" said the man. "Oh ... yeah. Here it is," he replied, wondering if maybe the taxi driver had left them there.

"You can smoke in the courtyard," said the man looking at the pack of cigarettes in Luke's hand.

"Oh, I wasn't ... I mean ... thanks."

"I need to make copy. Please, relax. I will return."

The young man walked into a back office and left Luke alone in the room. The courtyard looked empty and he didn't see any of his friends around. The cigarettes seemed to radiate energy and he knew it wouldn't go away until he smoked. He nervously walked to the courtyard, pulled out his lighter, and puffed away. The smell was different than the cab driver's brand. It felt comfortable. It felt like he had smoked these for years. On one of the drags, he brushed his hand against his chin and felt stubble. He could have sworn that he shaved before he left on this trip and he shouldn't have stubble yet. He also felt a burning on his left shoulder, like tingling needles. He put out the spent cigarette and spat into the bushes. On his way back inside he saw a bathroom and raced inside. He felt sweaty and sick, like his whole body was writhing. He pulled his shirt away and saw a dark black and red patch on his shoulder. His face looked different too. He pulled off his t-shirt and looked in the mirror. On his left shoulder and chest there was a large tattoo. His body looked slim and athletic, much more muscular than he remembered. He managed to put his shirt back on, but it was tight against his body and uncomfortable. His head was flooded with the high from the cigarette, but he managed to find the front desk again.

"Ah," said the man handing him his backpack. "Room 234, Bunk D, Diego." When he said the name "Diego," something clicked inside him. He felt a wawdve of recognition, including a mastery of the language, flooding into his brain. It was as if the chemicals in the cigarette had opened up an entirely new person inside him. As he climbed the stairs, he felt less and less like Luke and more like Diego. When he opened his back pack in the room, he pulled out a tight leather jacket, slim black pants, a pair of sunglasses, and dog-tags that had "Diego" printed on them. As he looked out the window at the dim morning light, he wondered if Bruno, Christo, and Antonio would be coming back soon. He walked over to the window and lit up another cigarette. He shivered slightly, and noticed a vein running along his bicep and the moon carve shadows on his tight abs. He stared out at the street letting the smoke fill his lungs, and with a deep breath, he exhaled the rest of his former life into the dark of night.

I request some pretty interesting changes. I like to have the body of a porn star with a nice cock and balls to go with my buff bod.

A porn star, huh?

Well, I guess I could manage that. I’m curious though, why a porn star? Is it cause you like sex? People looking at you? People getting off to you and your body? Do you want all that attention? To have the power to make guys wet just by looking at you?

Yeah, that’s it isn’t it? I can see it in your eyes. The way they’re glossing over from just hearing me say all these facts that you know have always been true but you’ve tried so hard to keep bottled up your whole life. 

I see you groping yourself, feeling your modest package between your fingers. I bet you want that to be bigger huh? Fuller? Longer? Thicker? Yeah, I heard about that one time your junk split the front of your briefs because you bought the wrong size before. I guess that’s why they say the only thing more swollen than your ego is your groin.

And you want a “buff bod” to go along with that enhanced package too? Just to further amplify the sex appeal dripping from your very being? That can easily be arranged. Big tits, thick arms, thicker legs. Shoulders that fill nearly every door frame you walk through. The power that radiates from your body is pretty damn infectious huh? No wonder they call your work almost hypnotic.

You’re kind of a little young to be a big, buff porn star though. I mean, especially one with such a huge reputation of making guys bust within minutes of watching your videos. What are you actually? 33? 37? What’s that? You can’t remember? Aww, c’mon you big lug, use your head and think for a minute! 

No, no that head. Well, shit, I guess we can only have one head engorged at a time when you’re prepping for your next shoot. Yeah, you still need to get that scruff trimmed up a bit, your body greased up, and all those clothes off. How much time do you have until your shoot begins? 14 minutes…? 7:26 is an oddly specific time to have a shoot scheduled. Oh, it’s at 7:30? Well then you have 18 minutes to finish getting ready, you dork. 

What’s wrong? Your head feels weird? Don’t worry, dude. That’ll probably pass when you finish your shoot. It’s just the intelligence draining out a bit. I wouldn’t freak. I mean, when your a famous porn star, who needs smarts? Right?

Good luck with your film today! I’m sure you and your scene partner are going to have a ride neither of you will ever forget.

Civilian Casualties

--- Originally posted by unknown on 2020-02-21 ---

It was my first day as a solider if the United States Marine Corps. The corps was drafting preds, for different reasons like, interrogation, war, and secret projects that are Classified. You would be surprised what a guy will give up when he half way down ur cock, ass, or throat. Anyway, I was hand selected by the corps because I was a pred and a damn fine one at that I had the unique ability to vore a guy no matter the size and remain unchanged, by appearance. There would be no sign of anyone either in my balls gut or up my ass. This was a secret project and only top officials and the preds new of the project. I am young though and sometimes I endulge myself. We were only allow to vore certian guys but not me, I thought that they would never know I took a few of our own guys or too some civilians. It's wrong I know, but I can't help it and plus I love it. We were on base and the base did tours cuz there was a museum on base. Me and my group had just finished taking pictures and we all went to the museum to have fun and see all the cool stuff there. We walked in the museum and we had fun looking at everything, we had permission to get up and close to the stuff and even touch some of the stuff. As we got more and more into the museum, we can into the hanger that was built on the side of the museum that held all the big badass stuff like planes and helicopters, anti aircraft guns and tanks. There was their big anti aircraft gun that we saw and one of my bubbies told me to go up there and sit in the seat. I said alright sure and jumped up and sat in it. I put my hands on the lever and felt the power.

The engineering that went into the design of this massive gun that was for taking down planes and piercing armor. My bubbly took my picture and I looked through the sight and played with it, moving it around until I pass over this guy. I turned the lever back toward him and stoped it there. I looked at him and he was watching us, I could tell he was I tered in me cuz he waved and blushed when I waved back. I got off the gun and told my friend I had to go to the bathroom and went up stairs to where he was. I stopped In front of him and stuck out my hand and said "Hi my name is Trevor, what's urs" he shook my hand and said "I'm Corey it's a pleasure to meet you" his voice cracked and I could tell he had a crush on me. He was a in town on business he told me and and I asked what business. He said "you might find this weirdo but I have abilities, I can transform people into inanimate objects." Shocked and intrigued I said," that's awesome man, but that's not weird. I'm a pred, I can swallow people with out leaving a trace of them in me." His face lit up like a red balloon. He said that's awesome, and that he's never met a actual pred before but he's heard about them. He then asked me," you know I have always been curious about ur type, how does it work Trevor? How can u swallow and entire man." I could tell he wanted in me although he was on a "business trip". I told him I'll show you and told him to follow me in the bathroom. We both got in and I looked to see if anyone was in there and didn't see anyone. I closed the door and locked it behind us. I told him" you want to see don't you? You want to see my mouth and the back of my throat, I can see in in ur eyes." Corey look me in the eyes and said " YES, OK I want you to vore me, I've been following u all day. Waiting for you to notice me." I smirked and said "wish granted" I walked up to Corey and pushed him to his knees and fished out my cock, it was already hard from my prey submitting to me. Something about willing prey really gets me going. He grabbed my cock and took over and began sucking on my cock. He was really good at this and he knew he was. He looked up at me with those cute eyes as I forced his head to take all of my cock. He gaged but only once, as he was sucking me off, I thought I heard the door but new it was locked. I freaked when a big hot muscled security guard unlocked it and said " What THE FUCK are you two doing." I freaked as he came towards us Corey simply snapped his fingers and the security guard was gone and all that remained was a pair of blue and grey underwear.

So he was telling the truth I thought this sent me over and I shot my load up and into his mouth. He got up off his knees and kissed me forcing all my cum into my mouth and then we kissed for awhile until I forced it back into his and swallowed it. It was turn so I asked him if he was sure about this and he just shook his head yes. I opened my mouth and he was mesmerized by my mouth and the back of my throat. I looked at him and winked as my mouth surrounded his face and my jaw stretched over his face and over his head. His whole head was in my throat and he loved it. I could see his bulge in his underwear explod as he bested more and more of mouth. His underwear was stained with cum as his head beater my throat. I can only imagine the thought of it all, his head must have been soaking wet from my warm saliva. My muscles throat must feel so good as he slides deeper and deeper into me. My mouth stretched over his shoulders and the rest of him was easy. I put his arms to his side and grabbed him and pulled him more and more into my body. At this point t he was up to his belly bottom so I lifters him up and let gravity due it's thing. He slowly slide down my throat I could feel every movement every muscle he had. His bulge and ass went in and I could taste his salty cum as I like it all around. He entered my stomach and started to curl up in a ball when I grabbed his feet and pushed them the rest of the way. One last swallow and he was gone. He slide down and curled into a ball in my stomach and thanked me for it. He said it was the best experience of his life, but then asked me when he was gonna. Be let out. I laughed and said" it's a one way trip Corey, u really didn't think u were going to experience it and be let out did u ahha" he freaked and thrashed about in my stomach yelling," YOU BASTARD I TRUSTED YOU, I DONT WANT DIE IN UR GUT... WHAT ABOUT MY MEETIBG TOMORROW WITHA CLIENT" I laughed at the realization that he was never going to be let out. I looked in the mirror and there was no bulge no sign of Corey anywhere. I was about to walk out when I say the underwear that was once a security guard. I striped and slide him on, they were comfortable and was contented cuz I wasn't wearing underwear. I needed to do laundry lol, I rubbed my junk all in the pouch which I assumed was his face. The underwear responded by tightening around my ass and cock like he liked it. I laughed and met up with my friends, we were all going to the beach so I got changed and we went out. Poor poor Corey, I rubbed as I went out on the beach. I hope I don't have a cramp while I'm in the water. I did just eat I thought I my self. But shrugged it off as I farted toward the water and jumped in. This was the last pic I took of me before Corey completely went away. Can't even seen him haha.

Table of contents

Hi I'm a long time lurker on the platform and have been reading TF stories for quite a while.

Ever since Tumblr started cracking down and seeing my favorite blogs disappearing left and right I've started archiving some of my favorite posts.

I'll be reposting some stories from my archive. There's some stories that I can not find the original post nor author for so please help me with finding them!

Stories (author unknown):

A day at the beach

Aronik

Body to brag

Civilian Casualties

Taller and Stronger

Stories (author deactivated)

3TH93USA [dumb-and-jocked]

Admirable Confidence [makingrealalphas]

A Gamer's Paradise [paradisetf]

Alpha Orders [dumb-and-jocked]

Ape boy [realhankmccoy]

Aware Wolf [realhankmccoy]

Ball Practice [time-to-transform]

Be of Service [dumb-and-jocked]

Becoming Bryce [newyoutf]

Bitten by the Country Bug [makingrealalphas]

Booty Text [dumb-and-jocked]

Branded [dumb-and-jocked]

Bro-Job [dumb-and-jocked]

Bro Switch [grandwagonranchmaker]

Chronivac Coworkers [davidrodge]

Cop Out [newyoutf]

Drawn [breedertfs]

Everything has a price [makingrealalphas]

For a better life [makingrealalphas]

Gearing Up! [ZacharyEverlust@DA]

Gnarly Tides [ZacharyEverlust@DA]

Good Game [dumb-and-jocked]

Gym Goggles [ZacharyEverlust@DA]

Here's to 28! [dumb-and-jocked]

Hotel Korea: Chapter One [dumb-and-jocked]

Hotel Korea: Chapter Two [dumb-and-jocked]

Hotel Korea: Chapter Three [dumb-and-jocked]

Hotel Korea: Chapter Four [dumb-and-jocked]

Identity Death [dumb-and-jocked]

I Was Just Being Ironic, Bro [realhankmccoy]

Josh [dumbbro]

Kenny's Uniform [makingrealalphas]

Level Up! [themuscleparadise]

Listen Up: All-American [newyoutf]

Listen Up: Swimmer [newyoutf]

Modulated [realhankmccoy]

Protocol 69 [dumb-and-jocked]

Purgatory [realhankmccoy]

Red Wave [dumb-and-jocked]

Set Free [breedertfs]

Swapsidite stone [dumb-and-jocked]

Swimming Confidence [ZacharyEverlust]

The Bald Bug [dumb-and-jocked]

The Driver: Richard [dumbmusclejockboi]

The New Frat Part 1 [newyoutf]

The New Frat Part 2 [newyoutf]

The Pence Protocol [realhankmccoy]

The Trump Trail [realhankmccoy]

The Interviews [dumb-and-jocked]

Totally Normal [dumb-and-jocked]

White Hat [grandwagonranchmaker]

Unseen Self [brounderconstruction]

Untitled 1 [realhankmccoy]

Untitled 2 [realhankmccoy]

Story index:

TheBurdenBorne

Breedertfs/Hogtfs/Shapedbydesire

If you are the writer of any of these stories and you want them deleted please let me know.

Reposted with explicit permission:

Barbarian Dungeon [cinaedefuri]

Removed on request of author:

Ancestral roots [@king-craftsman]

Briefs make a jock [@king-craftsman]

Cody Christian [@king-craftsman]

New Cologne [@king-craftsman]

Officer Davies [@king-craftsman]

Strange Oil [@king-craftsman]

Nanites [@cinaedefuri2]

Original creations:

The Rings: Jake [me]

Fighters Paradise [me]

Geared Up [me]

Do you have what it takes? [me]

Massive & Mindless [me]